


be the dreadful need in the devotee.

by redhoods



Series: i am softly watching you. [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Crossdressing, Established Relationship, Knotting, M/M, Schmoop, Self-Esteem Issues, let men wear dresses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-15 17:32:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18503734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redhoods/pseuds/redhoods
Summary: Beau comes out again, but doesn’t pull the door behind her, though from his angle, Caleb can’t really see behind her.On the other side though, Jester gasps and brings her hands to her mouth to cover it. He thinks he might see tears, but he drags his eyes away, back to the doorway as Beau shuffles out of the way.And his breath catches in his throat, like there’s a boulder there keeping him from drawing anymore air in.





	be the dreadful need in the devotee.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [losebetter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/losebetter/gifts).



> i have a Whole Lot of Fucking Feelings. i don't... even know where to begin. but like Affirm Fjord 2k19.
> 
> i was watching grey's stream and someone mentioned fjord in a dress and i immediately "i gotta write that", so ten thousand words later, here we are.
> 
> title is from talk by hozier.

The upper floor of the Lavish Chateau is in a minor state of chaos, members of the Mighty Nein flitting from room to room, preparing and dressing themselves for a gala that night. Caleb’s watching it all happen with a more than minor amount of amusement, his own outfit long since completed and Jester approved.

She’d been hard pressed to complain when her own mother had been the one to comb his hair out and pull it back for him. It’d been surprising, but nice and he feels nice, done up, without being overdone.

“Jester,” Nott - Veth snaps suddenly, her fingers almost absent minded as she plaits her hair, occasionally twining a flower through it, “Please, go fret over someone else.”

It’d be endearing the way Jester pouts if she hadn’t been anxiously harassing all of them through this process. He knows she’s flustered and nervous, it’s her first time actually being out in society in Nicodranas and the Gentleman of all people is hosting the gala, but all her anxiety has been taken out on the rest of them.

Most of them.

Jester shoots another look at the closed door across the hall and Caleb would be lying if he’d said he hadn’t been curious as well.

Beau and Fjord had closed themselves in the room as soon as they’d arrived that afternoon, after going out to find a new waistcoat for Fjord, after his had gotten irreparably splattered with giant crab blood. There’s barely been a sound out of the room since.

Well, aside from Beau shoving Caleb’s own things out at him, not even giving him so much of a glimpse of Fjord in the room.

Yasha taps him on his shoulder and Caleb blinks and glances away from the door, “Ja?”

“You’re very good at...” she trails off and gestures to where Veth is still plaiting her hair, “Right?” He’s never seen Yasha look so soft and delicate, though he’s never really seen any of them in this sort of state. It’s all for Jester, who’s helping Caduceus comb some of his fur.

Caduceus sends him a smile and a nod and Caleb grins, knowing that everyone’s doing their best to keep Jester occupied.

“I’d like to think so, ja,” he tells Yasha, then to spare them both a little, hopefully, “Would you like me to do yours?”

She gives him a grateful smile and nods, “Please, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”

Caleb waves a hand, “No trouble at all.”

It takes some adjusting and he lets Yasha take his seat so he can stand behind her, borrowing Veth’s brush. He lets himself sink into the methodical work, brushing her hair out with gentle sweeps, careful of any tangles he comes across.

There aren’t many though.

They’ve been in Nicodranas for a while, unwinding, taking a well deserved break, and enjoying regular access to a bathhouse.

He’s separating out the strands when Veth comes over, hauling a chair over to stand on and observe, “Yasha, how about some flowers?” She leans over Yasha’s shoulder, jiggling her basket of flowers in Yasha’s direction.

“Thank you,” Yasha sounds quietly touched as she starts sorting through the flowers, creating a pile in Veth’s hand before she passes the basket back.

Caleb works on the braid while Veth reaches around him to slide flowers into places that she seems to like. At some point, Jester comes to his other side and she’s practically vibrating as she watches them and suddenly bursts, “Yasha!”

Yasha jumps and Caleb jumps and Veth carries on like there’d been no interruption.

“Sorry, sorry, it’s just,” Jester bustles around to stand in front of Yasha and Caleb doesn’t think he’s mistaking how watery her smile is, “You look so beautiful,” she gushes then.

Caleb looks at Veth, who’s already looking at him. 

They shrug at the same time and work on finishing Yasha’s hair. He touches her shoulder gently when he’s done and she stands, “Thank you,” and Caleb isn’t going to pretend it’s directed at him, especially when Jester bounces on her feet and envelopes Yasha in a hug.

“How do I look, Mr. Caleb?”

Caleb turns to Caduceus and can’t help the wash of fondness he feels for his family, “Spectacular, Mr. Clay,” he answers, taking in the robes that Jester had had custom made for Caduceus. The teal of them is beautiful and soft and shimmering a little under the lights of the room.

Around that time, the door across the hall opens and all of their heads turn in its direction.

Beau slides out, careful as she pulls the door shut behind her, and her jaw is set. She’s got her determined, no nonsense face on, and Caleb’s heart thuds painfully with a wild surge of concern that he quashes down.

“Beau,” Jester sounds very breathy and she’s still got one arm around Yasha.

Caleb can see the pink on the back of Yasha’s neck and wisely doesn’t comment, instead taking Beau in. Strangely, her outfit is fairly similar to his own. She pulls it off better than he feels he does, the trousers fitting her form and the waistcoat accentuating rather than make her look like a stick like his own does.

He’s got a feeling Jester’s attention is on the dangerously low cut of her shirt but he’s not commenting about it.

“Hey, Jessie,” Beau’s determination slips just a little, as she takes in the picture of Jester and Yasha first, but then she looks the rest of them over and her jaw sets again, “I’d like to have a word with all of you. Right now.”

“Is Mr. Fjord alright?” Caduceus doesn’t look too concerned as he sits himself on the edge of the bed and Caleb is glad he asked the question first.

Beau squints at Caduceus but then her gaze shifts abruptly to him and Caleb lifts an eyebrow at her, meeting her gaze headlong. 

The pause is lengthy and Jester scoots away from Yasha a little in Beau’s direction.

“Fjord is fine, great even,” Beau says suddenly and Jester freezes mid step, “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Veth is on the bed putting flowers in Caduceus’s hair, though Caleb is certain she hadn’t been there just a minute ago, “Well, out with it already.”

Beau straightens out and nods, but more to herself Caleb thinks, “Right, okay,” she takes a deep breath and Caleb is beyond baffled, “Fjord’s almost done getting ready and when he comes out, I swear to every single fucking god I can name, if a single one of you says a damn thing other than how good he looks, I’ll knock your lights out.”

Caleb’s mind sort of spins out from there, imagining a lot of things.

“What does that even mean, _Beau_?” Jester drags Beau’s name out for a very long second, eyes huge as she stares Beau down.

Caduceus is nodding as he adds, “Perhaps it would be easier if we had an idea of what was going on.”

Beau looks over her shoulder at the closed door and then back, she doesn’t look at anyone else, but meets Caleb’s eye instead, “Lets just say it’s unconventional and he’s very...” She trails off with a wild shrug, but Caleb knows.

He nods and her shoulders sink a little.

“So right, be fucking nice or I’m coming for you,” she snaps suddenly and steps back to the door.

Jester cranes immediately, as if she’ll get a peek as Beau quickly slips around the door and shuts it behind her. Caleb counts to six before Jester sighs heavily, almost a shriek, “I just want to know!”

“He’ll be out soon,” Yasha says and she seems the only one entirely unphased, even Veth is squinting at the door.

Nobody tries to guess though and it falls quiet again, which Caleb is a little glad for.

He lifts his wrist, baring the copper wire just enough as he gestures in the direction of the door, hoping he hits Fjord and not Beau, “Liebling, are you alright?”

There’s a weighted pause, before Fjord’s voice carries back, “Little nervous, but...” he pauses, then, carries on a little more sure, “I’m good though.” Caleb can practically hear the pep talk that Beau must’ve been giving Fjord.

“If you’re sure,” he says to the wire, even though he doesn’t need to.

“I am,” Fjord says, tone softer now, “Thank you, Caleb.”

He lowers his hand and everyone is looking in his direction. Fixing his sleeve, he clears his throat, “He said he is nervous, but he is good,” he tells them, which seems to assuage any lingering concern, but also seems to magnify the curiosity. He cannot say that he isn’t in a similar boat.

Yasha clears her throat also, “I don’t know what Fjord is wearing, but I second what Beau said.”

“None of us will say anything, right?” Jester says, looking around the group and Caleb feels a quiet surge of pride as everyone shakes their head. She nods and smooths down the skirts of her dress, and then the door opens again.

Beau comes out again, but doesn’t pull the door behind her, though from his angle, Caleb can’t really see behind her.

On the other side though, Jester gasps and brings her hands to her mouth to cover it. He thinks he might see tears, but he drags his eyes away, back to the doorway as Beau shuffles out of the way.

And his breath catches in his throat, like there’s a boulder there keeping him from drawing anymore air in.

Fjord steps out of the room and he’s not looking at anyone, carefully averting his gaze, and his cheeks are that ruddy brown, deeper than Caleb’s ever since him blush, which is saying a lot. He can’t focus on that though, his gaze sweeping down over Fjord.

The material is a few shades off of black and looks soft, clinging as it falls to almost brushing the floor. It leaves very little to the imagination, baring Fjord’s arms and clinging to his chest, reveal the gentle cut of his waist and soft swell of his ips. 

And there’s a slit in the fabric, running up Fjord’s left leg to his knee, and it’s taut over his thighs, any tighter and Caleb might be worried about the integrity of the seams.

He’s got heels on, strappy things that are pitch black and wind up around his calf part way.

“Fjord!” Jester shouts suddenly and it’s like the spell breaks, Caleb dragging in a rough breath as Jester rushes forward to Fjord, who looks suddenly very wide eyed and nervous. She grabs him by the shoulders as she leans close and then flings her arms around, “You look amazing!”

Some of the tension eases out of him and almost all of the tension leaves Beau where she’s still standing by Fjord’s side, but she’s squinting hard at him and Caleb doesn’t meet her gaze. If only because he can’t pull his eyes from Fjord.

Yasha steps up behind Jester and touches Fjord’s shoulder, “She’s right,” she says quietly and then steps off in Beau’s direction, “Did you do the -” and Caleb sees her gesture to her face out of the corner of his eye.

And sure enough, when he focuses again on Fjord’s face, there’s a shimmer to his skin, like a light dusting of gold powder to his cheeks and eyes. He thinks there might even be kohl lining Fjord’s eyes.

“Me? Gods no,” Beau shakes her head, glancing at Fjord then to Jester, “Your mom did that,” she says.

Caleb hadn’t even seen her go into the room and by the look on Jester’s face, she clearly hadn’t either.

“Ah, I was wondering what she was sneaking around for,” Caduceus says and he stands and shuffles closer and there are a rainbow of flowers twined into his hair, adding the ethereal look he has going, “You look very nice, Fjord.”

Fjord’s head bobs in a nod and Caleb realizes he’s replaced his gold hoop for a dangling gold earring that has several little chains dangling from it, with what might be rubies on the end of each chain, “Thank you, guys,” he says, very quietly.

Jester finally releases him and steps back, dabbing at her eyes, “Dammit, Fjord, you’re going to ruin my makeup,” she chastises, but she’s smiling as she turns and returns to the vanity where there’s piles of makeup.

“Your makeup looks great,” Yasha says quietly and follows her, sitting on the bed just behind the stool of the vanity.

Veth walks closer to Fjord and Caleb can see Beau tense just a little, where she’s still standing sentinel. Caleb can’t see the face she’s making at Fjord, but Beau relaxes by slow increments and Fjord’s shoulders sink just a little bit lower. Caleb’s at the wrong angle to see what all happens, but Fjord drops down lower, to be at Veth’s level, which does all sorts of things to Caleb’s blood pressure.

The dress bunches and the slit of the dress drags up Fjord’s thigh, baring a whole lot of skin that has him swallowing heavily.

He does see the way Veth presses her hands to each of Fjord’s cheeks and then she says something he doesn’t hear before nodding and stepping away, leaving Beau staring after her.

Fjord straightens out and Caleb sees the way his throat bobs when he swallows.

Beau’s gaze turns back to him and so does Fjord’s.

“We’re fine, Beau,” Fjord says quietly and the two of them have one of their silent conversations that ends in a rude gesture before Beau nods and steps away.

Caleb’s moving before he’s aware he’s doing it, taking a step and then another and then another, gaze never straying from Fjord until they’re nearly toe to toe. The heels put Fjord even higher than him and Caleb finds he sort of likes the view at chest level, but strangely likes tilting his head back.

“You clean up nice,” Fjord says quietly, still clearly nervous.

Caleb hums quietly and reaches out, ghosting his fingers over the material at Fjord’s hip before cupping his side, “I don’t look near as good as you do,” he replies, surprising himself with how steady his voice comes out, despite the way his heart is still thundering.

Fjord actually looks surprised, “Yeah?”

“You look beautiful,” Caleb says quietly and that seems to be the right thing, because Fjord sags all at once, tension releasing as he curves forward, pressing their foreheads together, his eyes drifting closed. There’s a line of gold above the kohl and Caleb tries not to swallow his tongue.

They stay like that for a little while, Caleb gently cupping the back of Fjord’s neck with his free hand, and mercifully, no one interrupts them.

Fjord is the one to ease back, but not before he brushes a kiss to the corner of Caleb’s mouth, and then he straightens and rolls his shoulders back, “We almost ready to go?”

“Let me look at you all first,” Marion is there and Caleb isn’t sure how long she’s been there, but she’s smiling soft and fond, first at Jester and then at Fjord for a beat. Jester is the first to rush forward though and embraces her mother. Everyone glances away to give some semblance of privacy as the two of them talk in soft tones.

Jester pulls away from her mother and is dabbing at the corner of her eyes again, but still smiling as she steps back and gestures to everyone, “Don’t they all look amazing, Mama?”

To her credit, Marion takes the time to look them each over and her smile never diminishes, “They do,” she agrees and then her gaze lands on Fjord and she opens her arms, “Let me see,” she says, voice gentle.

Fjord only spares half a glance at the rest of the group before he steps forward and Caleb’s heart is going to give out on him at some point. He’s steady on the heels, but the biggest part is the dip at the back of the dress, the fact that it leaves the entirety of his back open. The fabric pools a little at the bottom of his back and stretches a little over his ass before it slinks the rest of the way just barely off the floor.

“Close your trap before you drool on the floor,” Beau says suddenly next to him and Caleb’s proud of himself that he doesn’t jump.

He swallows and self consciously rubs his hand over his mouth, still not looking away, “Once you stop going cross eyed over Yasha and Jester both, then you can judge,” he says quietly and winces when she jabs a finger into his side, finally looking over to her.

She squints at him and then bumps their shoulders, though doesn’t move away right after, “He was really nervous about what you would think,” she tells him and then leans away, “I was too, honestly.”

It’s something to stress himself over later, “He looks...” amazing, incredibly, breathtaking, “comfortable. Happy.”

“He is,” Beau says, voice soft and proud and they share a look before averting their gaze before they cross into too sappy territory, “You’re going shopping with him next time,” she adds gruffly, trying to save face before she steps away.

“Ja, I will,” Caleb says to her back and means it.

Marion says something soft to Fjord and they both look in his direction, he manages an awkward smile in their direction before they turn back to each other.

Someone comes up next to him and he realizes it’s Veth when she kicks him gently in the shin so he’ll get down to her level, “Ja?”

She clasps his cheeks like she’d done to Fjord, squinting heavily at him as she leans in closer, “If you hurt him, I will cut you, Caleb,” she says, very seriously, and he swallows and nods. She nods back then says, “It’s a good thing you have a long coat,” before twisting off and going back to join Yasha.

Caleb knows his face is red when he straightens back out and Fjord is there, watching him with an amused lift of his eyebrow, “Everything good?”

“Very.”

A hand touches his side and then Fjord curves in close, brushing a kiss high over his cheekbone, seemingly shy and bashful, as his forehead presses to Caleb’s temple, “I’m sorry for springing this on you.”

And Caleb’s heart aches.

Its been nearly a year, but even then, there are moments where Fjord’s insecurities rear their heads, hard and brutal and unforgiving. Caleb’s under no delusions, they were never going to go away overnight, but it doesn’t make him ache any less for Fjord. It doesn’t do anything to assuage his anger for the people that have contributed to it over the years.

He and Beau have had more than three conversations about it, venting their frustrations in the form of increasingly colorful and cathartic threats of what they would do if they ever came across any of those people.

“You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for, Fjord,” he says, gently stern, wrapping his arm around Fjord’s back. He wishes he didn’t have long sleeves on, that he could use that excuse to press his arms against Fjord’s bare skin, “As long as you are happy.”

There’s a weighted pause, where he’s worried that Fjord is possibly talking himself out of it, changing his mind, but then his chest rumbles, a gentle pleased purr, “I really am.”

“Awwww!” Jester is standing a few feet away, hands pressed to her cheeks again as she stares at the two of them, “You two look so good together,” she coos then, practically buzzing and Caleb thinks maybe her nerves are finally easing, “Fjord is even _purring_.”

The purring doesn’t stop like Caleb half expects it to, but Fjord does straighten out, his arm slipping across Caleb’s shoulders, “You look beautiful,” he tells Jester and she wiggles on the spot.

He’s not wrong either. Her dress is a deep purple, heart shaped at the top, and a mass of skirts that fall to her knees. She’s even got a matching purple ribbon tied in a bow around her tail. Caleb’s about to give his agreeance, but Beau beats him to it, sweeping in close to Jester, “You look amazing,” she says and adds something else, but Caleb can’t hear it from this angle.

Jester’s face flushes a similar deep purple as her dress though and she giggles, swatting at Beau playfully, “Okay, okay, lets go before we’re late late, instead of fashionably late,” she declares, but she takes Beau’s hand.

There’s a flurry of activity as everyone checks to make sure they have everything they’ll need and Caleb routinely pretends he doesn’t see Veth tucking daggers into her dress. Fjord doesn’t stray far, actually pressing in close to Caleb’s back, though the purring does taper off in favor of him giving rumbling answers to questions in his direction.

The group of them attract a wealth of attention, even just in the process of leaving the Lavish Chateau, Jester prancing ahead with Beau in tow, who also grabs Yasha’s hand, pulling her along in their procession.

Fjord tangles their hands together as they step out onto the street, his grip almost bordering on too tight, but he holds his head high as he goes, so Caleb squeezes his hand and feels a rush of pride.

They attract no less attention as they traverse the streets of Nicodranas and Caleb calls out gentle directions when Jester’s excitement causes her to lose track. It doesn’t take them long though, twining through the streets in the diminishing sunlight before they make it to the estate the Gentleman has claimed for his gala.

There are a pair of guards, not city guards, but guards nonetheless outside at the open gates and Jester marches right by them, chin high. No one makes a move to stop her or any of their party as they stroll through and it’s a strange feeling, but welcome at this point.

Fjord draws him to the back of the group as they approach the doors of the estate and then to a complete stop while the others take the short flight of stairs. The dull hum of conversation is audible through the open doors and Caleb swallows his own nerves at the idea of a large crowd.

“Are you alright, liebling?” He asks as he turns to peer at Fjord, who is staring at the doors.

Fjord’s throat bobs as he swallows thickly, “Just... need a minute,” he says carefully, grip flexing on his hand.

Caleb sweeps his thumb over Fjord’s knuckles then brings his hand up to press a kiss there, “Take all the time you need, I will be right here.” _Always_ , he thinks, then says, “Always,” because it feels important to have Fjord hear that word right now.

It has the desired effect, Fjord’s shoulders loosening, lowering, and his gaze shifting over, “Always,” he agrees quietly and then takes a deep breath, his jaw setting with purpose. It’s something he’s picked up from Beau, but it’s working for him as he takes his first step forward and Caleb doesn’t hesitate to follow.

\-----------

The longer they’re inside the sprawling home, the more Fjord loosens up and relaxes, in fractions at first, but then in larger increments as it becomes clear that no one is going to comment negatively on his dress. Really, he’s gotten a handful of compliments that seem to have left his cheeks a permanent ruddy brown for the night.

It helps that the others have remained close, the group of them crowding tight around one of the tables for the meal. Caleb, for his part, has a hard time prying himself away from Fjord and spends most of the dinner in contact with him in some form. Their knees pressed together, a hand pressed to Fjord’s back, their fingers knitted together on the table. 

Eventually, the plates are cleared away and the true test comes.

A band sets itself up and then music fills the room as tables are shuffled away from the center of the room. The lights dim around the room, leaving a soft atmosphere that verges on romantic.

Jester squeals in excitement and before anyone can say anything, she’s offering her hand to Yasha, who looks bewildered, “Please, come dance with me?” And Jester’s eyes get very wide, the pleading effect that none of them stand a chance at resisting.

Yasha, a little pink in the cheeks, eventually nods, “Alright,” before she stands and Caleb watches their progress across the floor.

“I need a drink,” Beau suddenly declares and is out of her seat and moving before any of them can react.

There’s a quiet beat before Fjord snorts and Veth shakes her head before she gets up and shadows Beau towards the punch table on the far wall. Caleb makes a mental note to not have any punch without checking it for alcohol first.

“Hey, Cay,” Fjord says after several moments of quiet at the table, actually startling him a little bit. He doesn’t take his eyes from the dancefloor though and Caleb hums quietly, waiting him out, “Would you like to dance?”

The question catches him weirdly off guard.

Fjord shifts to look at him, and he’s worrying his lower lip with his teeth, and his eyes are faintly glowing at this angle, and he’s pretty certain that Fjord is about to retract the offer so he nods, “I’d love to.”

A smile breaks over Fjord’s face, bright even in the dim light, and he’s the first to stand. Caleb breathes in sharply as Fjord brushes his hands down his sides, smoothing his dress, and it doesn’t go unnoticed if the little smirk he gets is anything to go by.

He stands as well, taking the hand Fjord offers him and lets himself be led out onto the dance floor.

Jester is still on the floor, but now she’s dancing with Beau, Yasha not in sight as Fjord pauses them close to the girls. It’s not the first time they’ve done this, danced in a crowd, but it’s the first time they’ve done it sober and the awkwardness hangs in the air for a moment, before they situate.

It’s a little different now though, the heels putting Fjord even that much higher than him, but it gives him the perfect excuse to press a hand to the bare skin of Fjord’s back, thumb sweeping over scar tissue in gentle circles.

Fjord leads them, simple careful steps that seems to have more to do with the crowd and less to do with his heels.

Curiosity gets the better of him, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

Caleb touches his tongue to his lower lip, smiles at the way Fjord’s eyes drop to it, but clears his throat, “You seem very comfortable on the heels?” It’s not a fully formed question, but he’s a little lost for words in this situation, unsure of what would be too much, what might cause Fjord to withdraw.

The silence isn’t uncomfortable and Fjord doesn’t seem bothered by the question, at least from the angle Caleb can see him at, the way his jaw isn’t clenched is a good sign, so he waits, letting himself be led in lazy circles and sways.

“I used to...” Fjord cuts himself off and Caleb continues to wait on him, lets Fjord decide what he wants to share, if he wants to share, “When we’d go to other ports,” he doesn’t offer more than that, but Caleb is a smart man.

He nods, brushing his hand up the length of Fjord’s back and then back down to the small of it, “It suits you.”

The song draws to a close and before he can step away, Fjord draws him into a hug, so he tucks his face against Fjord’s throat and lets himself be squeezed in tight. It’s good though, because he can hide his reaction as Fjord takes in breaths against his hair.

Fjord withdraws first, squeezing his arms before he drops one hand to curl their fingers together and they head cross the floor back towards the table.

Beau catches them before they make it all the way, shoulders tight in a way that makes Caleb’s fingers twitch, “We have to go.”

“What?” Fjord glances briefly at him and Caleb takes stock of the room around them, but he can’t see any of the others, not from where he’s at. Concern laces though him, even though he knows the others are perfectly capable of taking care of themselves. It’s a leftover worry.

Beau nudges him and turns the group of them in the direction to lead them out of the large dining room, “Someone robbed the place,” she says, once they’re clear of the bulk of the crowd, “Jester, uh, volunteered us to follow after.”

Caleb opens his mouth, but she shoves a bundle at him that he realizes is his spellbook and components bag bundled up in one of his newer, nicer scarves. He cocks an eyebrow at her, but she ignores him, beelining for the door. Her feet are bare.

They trail behind her, Fjord’s hand still wrapped around his as they step down the stairs out of the large house out onto the front lawn, where it looks like all chaos has been unleashed.

He can see Jester’s large, magical lollipop whirling around and there’s a shout that he takes to mean Yasha is already in the fray. 

“Come on,” Fjord says suddenly, tugging him forward, but once they get going, he ends up passing Fjord until their grip is tight between them until Fjord stops completely, “Hang on, sorry,” and pulls his hand away.

When Caleb looks over, Fjord has the two pieces of his dress around the slit in his hands and then _yanks_. The fabric tears easily and Caleb’s throat is suddenly desert dry as it bares green skin all the way up Fjord’s thigh.

Another shout draws his attention and he meets Fjord’s eye, before they both nod and Fjord is already moving, making for the center of the fight. He’s still got the heels on and Caleb starts quietly counting to himself in Zemnian as he heads out to the side, trying to find a better vantage.

It’s a little difficult to juggle his objects but he manages to dig out some powdered iron just as he catches sight of Yasha, releasing the spell instinctually in her direction.

There’s a slew of commotion as Yasha suddenly grows in size, towering over everyone easily.

He keeps edging around, trying to get a view of as much of the field as he can, and finally catches sight of their robbers. They look familiar in a way that he can’t place in the chaos of flying lollipops and swarms of beetles and swipes of a giant sword.

And then there’s Fjord.

Left leg almost entirely bare, heels still on, fabric of his dress flapping out behind him as he takes decisive swipes with his falchion. He lifts the blade and that purple-green energy goes flying out and slams into the chest of one of the robbers.

It’s... mesmerizing.

Caleb sends a fire bolt in that same direction, not quite conscious of it it strikes true because Veth comes scampering to his side, ducking around behind his legs, as if she’ll be able to hide behind him. She leans around him to pop off a crossbow bolt, then another, “Fjord is surprisingly agile like this,” she says once she leans back, her head against Caleb’s lower back.

“Ja,” he manages and his voice comes out hoarser than he expects, but he blusters over it as he spirals several rays of fire into the back of the man that Fjord has been fighting. It earns him a grateful smile and he tips his chin down a little.

Veth scoffs as she darts off around him, shooting her crossbow as she goes, and he shakes his head, watching one of the robbers crumple.

Once one goes down, the others follow in short order and Caleb releases the spell on Yasha with a gust of breath, still a fair distance from the rest of the group.

Jester is already flitting from person to person, doling out healing where it’s needed, though most of her attention seems to be focused between Beau and Yasha. Veth is rooting through the unconscious men, creating a pile of all the things she finds, while Caduceus observes, looking serene.

Drawing in a quiet breath, he turns his gaze to Fjord, who is standing still in the same place he’d been when the man in front of him had dropped. The falchion is still grasped in his hand, though his grip seems loose. 

Caleb crosses to him, touching the soft swell of his hip, “Fjord?”

Fjord blinks and looks to him, seeming a little surprised, a cut high on his cheek bleeding sluggishly, “Oh,” he disappears the falchion, “Got a little lost there for a minute.”

Reaching up, he gently brushes some of the blood away with his thumb, checking to make sure the wound isn’t too deep, “What’s wrong, liebling?” He asks gently, turned away from the others, because he can see it in the line of Fjord’s shoulders, the set of his jaw.

“Noth-” Fjord stops and draws in a quiet breath, head ducking so his chin touches his chest, “Sorry,” he says instead, looking sheepish and chastised though Caleb hadn’t even opened his mouth, “It was something, the guy -” he jerks his chin to where Beau is trussing the men up with vicious satisfaction - “made a comment about the dress.”

It throws Caleb for a second and he squeezes Fjord’s hip, “Clearly the dress did nothing to impede you,” he says quietly and before Fjord can interject, presses on, “You were very impressive, striking,” he adds, meeting Fjord’s gaze.

Fjord stares at him for several seconds, the sounds of the others distant, “You really like the dress, don’t you?” His voice is quiet and he actually averts his gaze.

Caleb swallows back the protective wave that rises in him, cupping both of Fjord’s cheeks to catch his gaze, to make sure Fjord has no choice but to hear him. “Yes, I really like the dress. You look beautiful,” he pauses, “That’s not accurate enough,” and barrels on when Fjord starts to frown, “You look stunning, I can hardly keep my eyes off of you and I have never seen anything sexier than you like this -”

“The fighting?”

“Well, yes,” he huffs a quiet sound, “I meant the confidence, the comfort, how happy you seem like this.”

Fjord is staring at him slack jawed when he finally stops and Caleb waits him out, sliding his hands down to cup his neck. He has to rock up a little on his toes to do it, but he presses his lips to the corner of Fjord’s mouth and when he starts to lean back, hands land on his hips keeping him close.

The kiss is a little off center, a little sloppy, and Fjord eases back a little before pressing back in. The second attempt is better, though still desperation tinged, and it’s verging on more when suddenly Jester declares, “I know who they are!”

“Oh, not these mother fuckers again,” Beau says and Fjord shoots him a sheepish grin before he edges away to go see what the commotion is about.

Caleb takes a deep breath and follows after him.

\------

“I didn’t know people could be so fucking stupid,” Beau is saying from ahead of them, one arm looped through Jester’s and Yasha on Jester’s other arm.

Jester is already nodding furiously, the jewelry in her horns clinking, “How many times it now that we’ve seen them?” She tosses a glance over her shoulder in Caleb’s direction.

He huffs softly, “I think that would be five now.”

“I thought that one was going to piss himself when he saw Caleb,” Beau says.

“He must’ve been part of the group outside Zadash,” Fjord says, eyebrows drawn together in thought, “Jester and Caleb did a real number on that one guy,” he adds, like smacking a man with a giant magical lollipop and turning him into ash was an experience of little note.

Caleb supposed it was at this point.

“I doubt they’ll be in any hurry to rob anyone again,” Yasha comments sedately.

Veth scoffs from where she’s perched on Caduceus’s shoulders, apparently having worn pants under her dress, “They shouldn’t have even tried this time. They’re terrible at it,” she says and Caleb can see her inspecting jewelry that she hadn’t had when they’d left the Lavish Chateau, “Honestly, if they manage to rob anyone, that person probably deserves it.”

“I’m sure the Gentleman will come up with something suitable to keep them busy,” Caleb points out, bumping gently into Fjord’s side and curling under his arm.

Beau snickers, “Did you see the look on their faces when they saw him?” She shakes her head, “Classic.”

“Oh, that was nothing compared to when they saw Jester’s lollipop,” Yasha sounds proud and a little delighted, and Caleb realizes that her arm is looped through Jester’s, but their fingers are also tangled together.

He nudges Fjord and nods to it.

Fjord turns, brushing a kiss to the crown of his head and muffling a, “Finally,” where the others can’t hear it.

Caduceus hums, “One of them definitely said ‘Oh no, it’s them again’,” and Veth cackles.

“After the first time, I wasn’t that surprised, but I really thought Molly had gotten through to them the second time,” Jester says and they all fall quiet for a few beats and then she turns a little, looking over her shoulder, “I bet Molly would’ve loved your dress, Fjord.”

“He would have,” Yasha says quietly, but she’s smiling, a small thing.

The quiet stretches, even as they approach the Lavish Chateau.

Without really talking about it, they all climb the stairs together, and they’re half way up when Jester hangs back, slowing until she’s just in front of Fjord, “I can fix it for you,” she says quietly, and Caleb lets himself hang back, falling in step with Veth who’s holding one hem of her dress up in the front. He can hear jewelry clinking together in her makeshift basket and grins at her.

He turns his attention back to Fjord and Jester, eyes mostly on the line of Fjord’s back and the way the dress is clinging.

“What do you mean, Jes?”

“Your dress, silly,” she says and waits again, so she can loop her arm through Fjord’s, “I can cast mending on it a few times, repair the rip and the tears from the fight,” she explains.

Caleb can’t actually see Fjord’s face, but there are still plenty of tells to Fjord, the way his shoulders droop a little and his ears actually lift a little, “You’d do that?”

Veth nudges his side and he loses the conversation thread as he looks to her and she pulls him to a stop on the landing of the second floor. She tugs a little at his hand so he kneels down in front of her, “What is it, schatz?”

Her nose wrinkles at the endearment and it’s never going to get old, “I found something for Fjord,” she says quietly, squinting briefly at the stairs, like she’s expecting someone to be listening, “I would give it to him but I don’t want him getting... _ideas_.”

He snorts before he can stop himself, lifting an eyebrow at her.

She flushes a little but determiendly looks away, digging through her new collection, “I stole this off a very grumpy woman,” she says and she’s holding something back, but he’s not going to press. Not now.

When she lifts her hand out, she’s got a necklace in her palm, a pooling of a gold chain, “It reminded me of the earring he was wearing,” she adds as she tips her palm, revealing a small ruby pendant.

“It’s beautiful,” he tells her as he lifts it out of her palm, and it is, delicate and simple, “Fjord will love it.”

“You better not tell him, Caleb,” she threatens, but she looks pleased, “I’d hate to have to kill you both,” she sniffs and then brushes by him to the stairs.

Shaking his head, he closes his fingers around the necklace and stands. It’s never stopped being amusing, the way Fjord and Veth still egg at each other, bickering almost like siblings, but willing to throw in for each other at the drop of a hat. They’ve come a long way.

He crests the stairs onto their floor just in time to see Yasha ducking into Jester’s room, slowing enough not to startle her, before he ducks into his and Fjord’s room.

“Was beginning to think you got lost,” Fjord says and he’s standing over at the mirror, their gazes meeting in the reflection.

“Our little friend wanted a word,” he answers as he crosses, “She had something for you, but you don’t know where this came from,” he adds pointedly and winks at Fjord in the reflection. He reaches up and drapes the necklace around Fjord neck and it takes a few tries for him to get the small clasp to work, then slides his hands to rest on Fjord’s shoulders.

The heels must be off, because he can see over Fjord’s shoulder, can see the softly awed expression as Fjord touches a finger to the pendant, “She wanted me to have this?”

“Ja,” he presses a kiss to the center of Fjord’s shoulder blades, “But, like I said, you do not know it was from her.”

Fjord nods and Caleb tips back as Fjord turns so that they’re facing each other, “Jester offered to take me to find more dresses,” he says, tipping their foreheads together, his arms sliding over Caleb’s shoulders, “I think I might take her up on it.”

Caleb loops his arms around Fjord’s back, palm flat over his back, “I think if you like it, then you should.”

“They’re not the most practical option for our usual adventuring,” he says, smile twisting a little wry, “But we’ve had a lot of downtime lately, so I think I’ll take advantage.”

“I heard her offer to mend this one.”

Fjord pulls back a little, looking down at the still present tear leading up his thigh, “I’m going to hand it over in the morning,” he says and doesn’t look up as he adds, “I wanted to see you looking at me in it a little while longer.”

Smiling, Caleb slides his hands up Fjord’s sides and then back down to his hips with a gentle hum, “That is certainly no hardship for me.”

He steps back, ignoring Fjord’s disappointed whine as he does so, “I’m not going anywhere, liebling,” he reassures, unbuttoning his coat and rolling it off his shoulders. It’s a very nice coat and he’s careful as he folds it and places it to the side.

Fjord makes another sound, a little wounded keen, as Caleb tugs his shirt up, untucking it from his pants, “You looked really handsome tonight, Cay,” and closes the distance between them. He rucks the shirt up from where Caleb had let it fall, pushing it up and gently tugging it off when Caleb raises his arms.

As soon as the fabric is gone, Fjord ducks in, pressing their lips together. It goes from a soft press to a slick slide of tongues and Caleb feels extremely aware of the prick of Fjord’s claws against his bare skin, shuddering out a quiet moan against his mouth. Fjord is the one to break the kiss, easing back gently, his pupils blown wide, “Caleb.”

“What do you want, liebling?” He asks, sliding his hands down Fjord’s chest, to his hips.

Fjord’s swallow is audible and he presses forward, backing the two of them towards the bed. “Can I -” he pauses and licks his lips, “I’d like to fuck you.”

Caleb’s inhale feels very loud in the otherwise quiet of the room, “Ja, I’m very amenable to that idea,” he manages with more bravado than he feels in the moment, his heart thundering, “This is - ah - your show,” he adds, as Fjord’s claws scrape down his sides.

“Good, okay,” Fjord sounds out of breath, but he ducks his head and all Caleb can do is thread fingers through his hair as Fjord sets out working what will undeniably be a massive mark at the juncture of his throat and shoulder. There’s a brief press of teeth and tusks against the area, not hard but enough to feel it and Caleb moans, as Fjord pulls away. 

The yellow of his eyes is barely visible, swallowed by the black of his pupils, and his cheeks are a ruddy brown color, his lips already swollen, and the breath punches out of Caleb as he rubs his thumbs over Fjord’s cheeks, “Beautiful.”

Fjord whines softly and nudges him back until Caleb’s calves hit the bed and he sinks down heavily onto the edge of the mattress. It puts him at near eye level with Fjord’s groin and the stretch of the dress over his cock is maybe the most obscene thing Caleb’s ever seen. Before he gets the chance to reach out though, Fjord is sinking down to his knees next to the bed.

Somehow, this is more intimate. 

Caleb watches quietly as Fjord removes his shoes and socks, a claw gently stroking over the delicate line of his ankle, his touch reverent. It’s almost too much, but he moves on, hands sliding up Caleb’s legs, pressure light over his thighs.

The laces of his pants are next and Caleb squirms, lifting his hips so those can come off too, sighing shakily when Fjord takes his smalls with them.

Fjord is still quiet, intent and focused, palms heavy as he presses Caleb’s thighs open, shuffling forward until his chest is near flush with the side of the bed. His lips press to Caleb’s inner thigh, first gentle then more insistent, worrying a mark into the skin there. He’s careful with his claws now, his hands fitting around Caleb’s hips and then he tugs, until Caleb is more on the edge of the bed.

“Fjord,” he breathes out quietly, running his fingers through Fjord’s hair, scraping his nails over Fjord’s scalp and down the back of his neck.

There’s not a response, not in words, but Fjord rumbles out a sound from his chest and the sound carries as Fjord wraps his lips around his cock. Caleb groans quietly, fingers flexing in Fjord’s hair, careful not to pull even as Fjord swallows him down.

Sloppy and enthusiastic is the best way to describe how Fjord goes about it, still trying to adjust to his tusks. Caleb babbles out half formed phrases and useless Zemnian as Fjord tongues over the head and then hollows his cheeks as he slides back down. His toes curl against the floorboards and he pants out, “Scheisse, Fjord.”

Fjord pulls off with an obscene ‘pop’ and his lips are puffy, spit running down his chin, “Get me the oil if you would please, love,” and then doesn’t actually give Caleb a chance to respond before he’s sinking back down.

Caleb flicks one of his ears, because there’s no way Fjord doesn’t know what he’s been doing to him all evening and has to hunch over Fjord to get to the drawer by the bed.

It causes Fjord to pull off again, but he’s chuckling low as he bites a kiss into Caleb’s thigh, “Impatient, are we?”

After a bit of blind searching, Caleb gets his fingers around the vial and sits back, pressing it into Fjord’s waiting palm with an eyebrow raised. Fjord meets his gaze head on and licks a broad stripe from the base of Caleb’s cock all the way up over the head. Then a broad palm presses flat to the center of his chest, pushing him onto his back and Caleb stares a little dazed up at the ceiling.

Fjord’s hands disappear, but he moves back to pressing kisses over Caleb’s thighs, sucks another mark against one of his hips and then one hand is back. “Hike up, don’t want you coming off the bed,” he says, even as he’s pushing Caleb further onto the bed with a hand on his thigh.

Caleb presses up onto his elbows, watching with heavy lidded eyes as Fjord spreads oil over his fingers, “Could both move up on the bed, floor can’t be good on your knees for too long,” he offers, faltering a little as Fjord circles a finger around his entrance.

“Mm, nope,” Fjord pops the ‘p’, one of those habitual quirks that Caleb loves, even if right now it’s enough to drive him a little crazy. It could just be that Fjord sounds mostly unaffected as he presses teasingly at Caleb’s hole.

His arms give out when Fjord finally, _finally_ presses his finger in and he groans, twisting his fingers in the blanket beneath him.

Fjord gives up almost all of his pretense of teasing after that, working one finger into Caleb until he’s rocking down against Fjord’s hand, then pressing back in with two, “You’re doing so well, Cay, can’t wait to get inside you.”

“Then hurry up,” Caleb mutters, even as he grinds down on Fjord’s fingers, a moan escaping him when Fjord curls his fingers.

“Impatient,” Fjord says fondly, mouth against Caleb’s hip as he presses back in with three fingers. He keeps working his way up, kisses featherlight, until they’re face to face, “Changed my mind, lets get on the bed,” and pulls away all at once.

Caleb groans, throwing his arm over his face and not trying to muffle his string of expletives, ignoring Fjord’s laughter. “Payback, liebling,” he promises as he starts shuffling up the bed until his head hits the pillows and looks up to watch as Fjord pushes his smalls off, but leaves the dress, “Scheiße.”

The dress bunches up when Fjord pulls on it, hiking it up more around his hips so he can climb up on the bed, “Thought you might like that.” Fjord’s voice is low and gravely and even Caleb’s wildest fantasies couldn’t have conjured up the scene in front of him.

Fjord settles between his thighs, arching over him, “Good?”

“Very.”

“Good,” and that’s all the warning he gets before Fjord is pressing back in with three fingers again.

Caleb whines, back arching, trying to get more, trying to get something.

“Easy, love,” Fjord murmurs, lips pressed against Caleb’s neck, a gentle contrast to the way he’s fucking his fingers in and out or the hard press of his cock against Caleb’s thigh, “Don’t want to hurt you.”

Hooking a leg around Fjord’s back, Caleb grinds up against him, “I’m not made of glass.”

Fjord huffs out a quiet sound of amusement, lifting up to touch their foreheads together, “Doesn’t mean I want to risk it,” and curls his fingers, then when Caleb’s vision isn’t whiting out, “Want you to be able to take my knot, too,” all casual like.

Caleb groans, head pressing back against the pillow, “Fjord,” he demands lowly, nails digging into Fjord’s shoulders.

“Alright, alright,” Fjord withdraws and starts hiking his dress up, the fabric twisting and bunching up around his waist, before Caleb sits up to help him, pressing a kiss to the middle of Fjord’s chest as he pushes the material up. Between the two of them, they get the dress up and off.

Then Fjord presses a hand to his chest again, knocking him back against the pillows, “Fuck, Cay, you look so good,” his voice is low, the tone awed, and Caleb is the one to find the bottle of oil in the blankets, pressing it into his palm.

This angle, propped up on the pillows like he is, affords Caleb the perfect view to watch Fjord dump oil on his palm and the way his eyes fall closed as he takes himself in hand.

Caleb hooks a leg around Fjord’s hips and tries to pull him in closer, “Fjord, bitte,” and it has the desired effect, the way that Fjord shudders, grip on his own cock momentarily tightening. 

Fjord tilts forward then, bracing himself on the bed with one arm and tucking his face against Caleb’s neck, “I got you,” he muffles against the skin. Then he’s rubbing the head of his cock over Caleb’s hole and they’re both groaning, though the sound dies in Caleb’s throat as Fjord starts pressing forward.

It’s the slowest, most tortuous press and Caleb can do nothing but cling to Fjord’s shoulders and try to rock his hips, try to get him to move faster. Fjord pants quietly against his neck, claws digging into the blanket next to Caleb’s head, and this isn’t going to last long. His only sense of relief is that he doesn’t think Caleb will be able to last long either.

“Schiesse,” Caleb breathes out, once Fjord stops moving, not even fully in but Caleb’s entire nervous system feels lit up. The base of Fjord’s cock is already swollen and he doesn’t actually pull away, just grinds forward and Caleb’s mouth falls open in a silent moan.

Fjord rolls his hips forward again, teeth pressed against Caleb’s throat, unconsciously worrying at the spot. When he lifts up to look at Caleb, there’s a massive mark left behind, almost the size of his palm, with a clear indent of his teeth.

Caleb, for his part, seems not to care at all, if he’s even realized.

“Cay,” he whines softly, touching their foreheads together, groaning low and loud when Caleb cups his jaw and drags him into a kiss. It’s sloppy and uncoordinated and they mostly just end up sharing air between them as Fjord keeps grinding into him with little twists of his hips.

And then Caleb cants his hips just as Fjord is grinding forward and Fjord ends up pressing his face against Caleb’s neck, biting down to muffle himself as his knot presses passed Caleb’s rim and Caleb’s nails dig into his shoulders.

Neither of them moves for what feels like hours, aside from heaving breaths, until Fjord manages to unlatch himself, “Shit, sorry,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to the undeniable teeth imprint he’s left behind.

Caleb drags his nails up gently, scraping them over the back of Fjord’s neck, “Don’t be,” he says, brushing a kiss over Fjord’s temple. His hands slide back down, palms flat against the planes of Fjord’s back, “I will make you sorry if you do not move though,” he adds.

“Is that a promise, sweetheart?” Fjord asks and swallows a groan when Caleb tugs his hair.

Never let it be said that Fjord isn’t good at taking orders though, especially from Caleb, so he grinds forward, unable to do much more than that. He pushes up to shove a hand between them, getting his hand around Caleb’s cock while he keeps grinding forward.

A groan wrenches out of Caleb and he digs his heels into Fjord’s lower back, “So good,” he pants out, fingers tight in Fjord’s hair, because it is, Fjord is, and he knows what a little bit of praise can do to Fjord.

Fjord full body shudders against him and his grip tightens, and Caleb groans, toes curling as his orgasm crashes through him, striping his own chest in white. His vision whites out and all he can hear is the ocean for what feels like ages, but he can feel Fjord still grinding against him, the gently kisses along his throat and shoulder.

When his vision comes back, Fjord is braced over him and Caleb can see how the kohl is smudged around his eyes, sweat tracking through the gold dust on his cheeks and he’s got his lower lip pinched in his teeth, eyes glassy.

Caleb cups his cheeks, draws him into a kiss and then rocks up a little. Skating his thumbs over Fjord’s cheek bones, he pulls back from the kiss to catch his eyes, “You’re beautiful,” he says quietly, seriously, and isn’t expecting the way that Fjord tenses up.

And he might be worried, but he can feel the way that Fjord’s knot swells, the rush of heat inside him., and then Fjord groans, back bowing as he hides his face against Caleb’s chest.

“Liebling,” he says quietly, gently petting his fingers through Fjord’s hair, not trying to move him though, because he’s trembling a little, hips still hitching.

Time slips away a little and Caleb absently runs his hands up and down Fjord’s back in gentle strokes, while his body loosens by fractions, until Fjord slumps down fully, face pressed into his neck, “Sorry for squishing you,” and his voice is _wrecked_.

Caleb shakes his head, hooking his leg around Fjord’s back, “You are good right where you are,” he replies, tucking a kiss against Fjord’s temple. It’s true though, the weight of Fjord pressing him into the bed is comforting more than smothering. 

And they don’t have a lot of movement options while Fjord’s knot is still swollen full.

Fjord’s chest starts rumbling in a purr shortly after that and Caleb hides his fond smile in Fjord’s hair, still touching him gently, nails over his scalp, palms over his back, lips against his head. He’s learned that sometimes that’s all Fjord wants, gentle, light touches with an easy out if he wants it. Caleb can’t give him an out in this situation, but he can give him gentle.

“Thank you.”

Caleb almost misses it, over the purring, can feel the rumble of the words more than hear them, “For what?”

For a long minute, he thinks Fjord isn’t going to answer, but the purring cuts out and Fjord pushes up on his elbow so they’re actually face to face, “For letting me be myself,” he says quietly and Caleb feels that ache again.

“Fjord,” he says, quiet and low, cupping Fjord’s cheeks again, tracing the shape of his face with his thumbs. He rubs over the scar bisecting his eyebrow, the apple of his cheek, the point of one of his tusks. By the time his hands still, Fjord’s face is a ruddy brown and his eyes are drooping a little, like he’s on the verge of falling asleep. “You can always be yourself with me,” he adds and Fjord shudders, eyes falling closed.

Caleb slides his hands into Fjord’s hair again and tugs him gently back to laying down, “I will keep telling you that, if you need me to,” and, after a beat, “I love you, Fjord, you’re not going to scare me away.”

Fjord tries to smother his responding sound, an almost whine in the back of his throat, and Caleb waits him out.

When Fjord moves again, his knot has gone down and he eases back carefully. The sex far outweighs the discomfort of him pulling out, even if Caleb scrunches his face up at the feeling of emptiness, but also the gush of fluid. He has to stretch his legs out, wiggling his toes, though his eyes stay on Fjord.

“Oh boy,” Fjord says quietly and Caleb’s eyebrows lift in confusion, “I might have gotten carried away,” he adds and in explanation, presses a finger to one of the bite marks on Caleb’s thigh.

He arches before he can help it, blowing out a shuddering breath, “I do not mind,” he says, Fjord’s eyes on him like a physical weight as he finds another mark and presses into it. “Are you purposefully teasing?” He asks, nudging Fjord’s side with his knee, because he doesn’t have the energy for much else.

Fjord’s reply is just a smirk as he backs off and slides off the bed, and, okay, Caleb can work up the energy to push up on his elbow to watch him go.

“You’re going to stare a hole through me,” Fjord comments idly where he’s at the water basin, getting a rag wet.

Caleb laughs and falls back on the bed, realizing with a quiet sigh that the blankets are going to need to be changed, “I’m merely appreciating the view. Is that not all right with you?”

There’s no response, but he can hear Fjord’s steps as he approaches the bed and then the wet rag lands on his chest and Caleb jerks, “It’s all right with me,” Fjord says, after he’s let Caleb flail. The bed dips as Fjord kneels on the edge and the rag is pried from his fingers, “Let me.”

The room falls quiet as Fjord wipes his chest off with gentle sweeps of the rag and Caleb absently wraps his fingers around his wrist, just grounding both of them.

Caleb must drift because he startles when Fjord says, voice low, “Roll over.” The words cause him to shudder, full body, and he meets Fjord’s gaze first, “Come on, Cay,” and his eyes are dark, but he seems calm, relaxed.

Fjord nudges his hip so Caleb hums and rolls over, which if nothing else, takes him out of the wet spot. Lips press to the center of his back and Caleb breathes out a quiet sigh. Fjord rumbles out an answering sound and his hands skate up the back of Caleb’s thighs, gentle and light up to his cheeks.

“Fair warning,” and then the rag is dragging between his cheeks over his hole and Caleb breathes out against the pillow, tucking his hands under it. He’s only half expecting the finger that presses against his rim, but he still groans quietly.

The finger disappears though and Fjord carries on cleaning him up, gentle but thorough and then his weight disappears briefly.

It takes effort but Caleb levers himself up enough to shove the blanket down the bed, using his feet to kick it off the end, so he can sprawl out across the clean sheets with a pleased sigh. He can hear Fjord moving around the room, but it’s comforting in its familiarity.

The room goes dark as Fjord snuffs out the lanterns and then the bed dips and Caleb shifts himself out of the middle as Fjord lays down. A blanket drapes over him and he hums quietly in thanks as a hand seeks out his side and then tugs him until his back is pressed flush to Fjord’s chest. An arm drapes over his side and Fjord presses his hand flat over Caleb’s chest with a quiet pleased rumble and a, “I love you too, Caleb.”

Caleb smiles, running his hand over Fjord’s arm to curl his fingers around the ones pressed to his skin. He closes his eyes, melting back into Fjord’s warmth, “Remember what I said, liebling.”

They need to talk about some things and they will, soon, because they’ve been working on that, getting better at communicating. For now though, Caleb feels warm and relaxed and Fjord is purring quietly, contently against his back.

“Always,” Fjord says.

“Always,” Caleb echoes.

**Author's Note:**

> come find me on: [twitter](https://twitter.com/red_hoodsy) or [tumblr](https://redhoods.tumblr.com).
> 
> next time: a dress to fuck in.


End file.
